


He’s Something Truly Magical

by Whyhellotherem8



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abandoning, Addiction, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted character murder, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending (Probably), Incoherent Sex, M/M, Major daddy issues, Masturbation, Mentions of Bruce/Betty, Past Underage Sex, Real wizards, Sexual hesitance, Violence, Witch Burning AU, Witch Hunts, beatings, character abuse, dr. banner, mentions of child abuse, mentions of thor/jane - Freeform, past parental death, past trauma, recent parental death, so much bisexuality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-05-19 20:27:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19363633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whyhellotherem8/pseuds/Whyhellotherem8
Summary: A mere two months ago the villagers would have never ever thought of storming to a neighbors home well past dark and tearing them down the street, crying of blasphemy to later burn their body on a pyre, hang them, drown them or another terrifying and generally painful death. However two months ago was a very different time, where there was no such thing as a word that was about to ruin Loki’s life. Witch Fear.





	1. Chapter 1

The night was overly thick. Tension was hanging heavy in the already humid air, suffocating, incredibly uncomfortable for any and all involved. The stars were snubbed out from the roaring crimson torches pointed toward the sky, patching clouds drifting in front of the moon, shining as bright as a silver coin, despite the fact that it had no right. Not on a night like this. Leather boots pounded into the packed tight dirt and gravel of the road. Candles were lit in confusion as people leaned from their doors or ran out into the streets to see what was causing such a racket so far after the setting of the sun, some annoyed and some simply very curious. Horses brayed and snorted at the noise, hooves pawing at the ground. Raggedy street dogs snarled and barked at the horde as it stormed to a location everyone knew well enough. It was a dark house, crowded in soft green ivy that curled up the walls, unkempt that stood at the very edge of the town, close to the forest that stretched on the east side of the town as far as the eye could see. The grass in front of the home was crowded with soft yellow wildflowers that were soon to be trampled by the ground making its way to the heavy oak door of the home of the two young sons of Odin. 

The first, the eldest who went by Thor, was perfectly fine in fairly every way. Handsome, Golden haired, brawny, overall very respectable. He had a bit of an anger problem and a rash way of going about things, but he was overall a joyous, pleasurable young man. Even if he was a little...dense, by way of skull. He loved people, and he loved being around people. He was a soldier. Overall everyone adored Thor as part of their family, couldn’t be happier to have him as a citizen. However then came the youngest. 

The youngest son of Odin was...a suspicious character for sure. The boy was very tall, about 6’4 and quite thin. Which shouldn’t have been odd but Thor certainly wasn’t very thin. He had pure black hair, inky and quite long, reaching between his shoulder blades. He was nicknamed the raven due to his constantly dark clothing, strict stance and extremely sharp nose, cheekbones and jaw as well as these intense viridesent eyes that were half covered in thick black lashes that made his constant glare all the more intense. What made this odd looking man all the more suspicious though was the fact that he was a loner and nothing like Thor at all. It was very rare that Loki ever stepped from the home and when he did it truly never was for long. With his almost physical inability to grow body hair, dainty and quick motions and his severe disgust to most things generally associated with masculinity or brutality- Rumors had been circling him since he was 15 and he was now 19. 

However despite the mumbled things under people’s breath, despite the snickers and the glares Loki had never thought the people would actually act on their fears. The people were scared of the odd and unknown, yes, always. And yet nothing could prepare Loki for the mob storming down the streets. A mere two months ago the villagers would never ever think of storming to a neighbors home well past dark and tearing them down the street, crying of blasphemy to later burn their body on a pyre, hang them, drown them or another terrifying death. However two months ago was a very different time, where there was no such thing as a word that was about to ruin Loki’s life. Witch Fear. 

In Loki’s home, Loki was sat a desk, the old wood and a clean sheet of parchment glowing under the fluttering light of a lit candle, half burned away. Slender hands lie still on the parchment and green eyes puzzled away as Loki tapped at the paper with his recently inked quill, leaving tiny black splotches on the pristine page. There were only two words on this paper yet, the neatly scrawled words ‘Dear Thorin’ paired with a comma. Loki was...attempting to write to his brother. However Thor had left on a bad note when they’d gotten in a disagreement over Thor’s lover, Jane, whom Loki couldn’t stand. 

Thor had left for training saying he wouldn’t come back and would go and live with Jane in her own town when he came home. Though Loki had been passive of this declaration when it was first made- he was feeling the life sucking anxiety about it now. However...what could he even say to Thor? How could he redeem this, with his pride stuck in his throat too large to swallow, threatening to make him put the quill down. Deep in a haze of thought, when he heard a sharp rapping at the door his hands jolted and spilled the thick black ink all over the parchment and all over his hands. Loki quietly cussed and quickly wiped them on a cloth, peering out the window at his doorway. People, everywhere, angry faces outlined in splashes of scarlet and orange from their lights. That didn’t look good. 

Loki’s heartbeat picked up and he scrambled, tearing open his floorboard and quickly hiding several books and anything else that might give him away before quickly closing it and pushing his bed over the board to hold it in place. He heard a sharp sound as the door was jerked open, tearing it from its lock. Loki froze before he darted downstairs, to the exits. On the way however, he met the men in the horde. 

Hands closed around his biceps when he reached the pantry, making Loki gasp in shock as he was pulled back into the horde who quickly grabbed the boy. Blurs of darkness and light flashed in front of his eyes and sharp voices sounded off in his ears as those hands crawled all over him, at least ten pairs, grabbing his hair and his clothes and his neck and anywhere else they could get away with. Hands closing around his groin and legs despite his protests and growls of discomfort and orders to release him. 

He could barely make sense of what was being yelled at him, only knowing that ‘witch’ and ‘sin’ and ‘disgusting’ were some popular ones and a gush of wind and the sound of feet hitting dirt and rock alerted him he was outside. A stinging pain stabbed his cheek and a fist pounded its way into the midsection of the male, causing him to sharply curl up on himself, kicking his legs and tossing his head back and forth. “Unhand me!” He roared, writhing in the hold of those around him. However to no avail and people began rushing from their homes to watch in awe and horror and...support. I mean what could they say. He was an odd boy. He shrieked as he was tossed to the ground and his mind finally registered and eyes and ears could focus. He was in the towns square, staring up at a man by the name of Volstagg. Fat, ginger, a good friend of thors who worked as a blacksmith staring down at the pale son of Odin. 

“Filthy witch.” His rumbly voice growled, A disgusting, hot glob of saliva hitting Loki and he growled and wiped it off of himself in disgust. “what is the meaning of this.” Loki snapped, staring harshly up at the male who reached down to let a large, sausage fingered hand curl around the mess of raven hair behind his head which by now was incredibly mussed- and lift him up from the ground. “A raven loner curled up in his room all day. What do you do? Sing to the devil, consort with those far past your influence, what does the strange little boy do when his brother isn’t around?” He asked, making Loki sneer. “as if you’d know anything, you have the mind of a fly, trapped within the body of a hog.” He spit. 

A massive booted foot collided with his stomach, resulting in a strangled cry from Loki, a painfully high pitched whine leaving him. “Greasy little weasel.” Laughter followed the jeer as he was torn up from the ground again and soon dragged to a stone building. It smelled foul, like rust and the must of mold and moss. He was dragged into a cell and thrown into it as an iron gate tore itself down and settled in place. The room was filthy, blood and waste covering the floor, words and dashes scratched into the filthy, moldy walls. Loki grasped the rusty bars to get up; snarling at them only to earn a few chuckles.

Some spit on him as they left, the rest gave him glares or an insult or two as they left, the ringing of the word ‘weasel’ pounding through the cavern. Loki groaned and harshly hit his head against one of the bars, pushing his hair back. He sat on the straw bed and stared at the wall, picking at his nails and feeling blood trickle down his cheek and jaw and fall upon his clothing, disappearing into the black fabric. 

This continued until morning rolled around and the whistling of robins from outside started Loki awake. He’d fallen asleep against the wall and he moaned, rolling his neck and listening to the sickening ‘pop’ of his muscles and he followed by rolling his shoulders and arching his back. When he turned he jolted a little as his eyes met rather soft, honey colored orbs that peered through the bars. Soft? yes, welcoming? not at all as the figure of a short, tanned male stared at him, head a little tilted in a hesitant sort of curiosity. “Hello.” The man greeted. His voice was less deep than Loki’s and much less smooth, a little naturally gravely. “I’m Doctor Banner. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

A swallow bobbed Loki’s Adam’s apple. Let’s just say...the pleasure was one sided.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki and Bruce have an argument.

Bruce sighed, splashing a bit of water in his face to hopefully wake him up just a little. He was not a fan of the morning. He had been woken before dawn from a dead sleep by a knocking at his door and with quite the fair bit of swearing made his bleary way down to the door. Where he met Volstagg. He was pretty fond of Volstagg and his friends, they were often in for minor injuries and were overall aggressive but at least funny. He was informed that there was a prisoner he needed to evaluate before his trial which would take place the following evening. When asked what he’d done- he wasn’t yet given an answer. It was extremely suspicious but they had left and Bruce had just had to sigh in annoyance and get ready.

He attempted to tame his curls (he really just needed to cut them) and threw on some loose cotton trousers which his waist filled out fine as well as some leather boots and a soft wool shirt. He broke into the heat of late summer, despite the fact that rolling grey clouds had already filled up the sky. He winced and rolled his shoulders as he padded out of his home, still very tired and certainly not in the mood to deal with some dirty petty thief or something. 

He made his way down the road, giving fake little half smiles to the peasants who greeted him kindly. He soon reached the jailhouse and cringed just a little. He hated the jailhouse, it reeked and no wonder people grew ill as the fact that it was literally filthy and he hated entering it. He straightened up though and entered, looking around the damp halls and letting his arms go around himself, tightening up at the scampering of rats until he found the cell and the male inside similarly attempting to wake up. He examined him with his eyes first. 

The male was indeed conventionally attractive, sculpted brow, strong features, long lashes, etc. Thin, probably due to malnutrition, hair messy and naturally covered in bruises. His shirt had been torn off meaning Bruises were littering his form from the grabs of the struggle. His stomach had clearly been punched and his cheek had been slashed, and in general it looked like he’d well...had his ass kicked. When this new man stared at him back Bruce straightened again, feeling blood naturally flood to his cheeks with embarrassment. 

He crossed his arms a little awkwardly and cleared his throat before he spoke. “Hello.” He hesitantly greeted “I am Doctor Banner. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” No answer. A swallow, a raised brow and a body slowly relaxed back against the wall. “Loki.” Fitting name. Mysterious, cold, just like the one who bore the name. Bruce rolled his eyes in annoyance, tapping his own bicep with his index and middle finger. “I’m just here to look you over. Make sure you’re in peak physical position before your trial.” He informed as he opened the gate and stepped in, shuddering at the cold and the filth in the room. He didn’t like it here. 

“Oh, making sure I’m perfectly alive so I can be sent to death, how thoughtful of them to send you.” Loki snapped. Now Bruce understood Loki was upset. Whatever the hell this dark teen did- he knew he didn’t want to be here. So Bruce attempted a few controlled breaths and nodded “I know this must be a lot for you to take. But I doubt you’re dying-“ “and how the hell would you know?” The boy snapped harshly, entirely interrupting him. 

Bruce narrowed his eyes”well...what exactly did you do.” Totally cheating, he was entirely not supposed to ask that of prisoners. It often made them violent, defensive and that was handled between the prisoner and the court. “Nothing!” Loki spit, standing to his full height, towering above Bruce by at least a head. “Absolutely Nothing, how funny, because you’re in a cell.” Bruce reminded a bit snappishly. 

“I was sitting in my home last night! They broke into my home, tore my door off the hinges and dragged me to the square where I was belittled and called a witch and thrown in this foul cell to spend my night!” He growled “I never leave my home. I couldn’t have done anything.” 

Realization dawned on Bruce. You see Bruce had an unpopular opinion- Bruce did not believe in witchcraft or mythical creatures or anything of the like. He simply found it wasn’t possible logically and gave simple explanations and did little things to appease the people to tell them witches didn’t exist. Apparently they didn’t want Bruce to save this one, or even give him a chance to save this one. His brows furrowed and eyes narrowed “ah.” He grumbled. “I’m sorry.” He said dryly. He was still tired and yes he was still upset at being snapped at. He pondered as he grabbed his bag to clean up the slash in Loki’s cheek. “Stay still.” He snarled when Loki defiantly jerked his head. 

They stared tensely for a moment before Loki’s muscles seemed to slightly loosen and Bruce could wipe the dried blood away from his face. “This might be hard.” He murmured. 

Loki’s brows knitted together and he narrowed his eyes harshly “what.” He spit. Bruce rolled his eyes “look-“ he began “I really don’t believe in witches or whatever. I think it’s complete bullshit and it doesn’t actually make any sort of logical sense. So I do little things to just appease them and usually it works. “ not that it always worked and that made nausea tug Bruce but he tried to just...smother that deep within. Always a good tactic. 

“People are really easily convinced if you use anything they don’t understand because they think it’s some miracle even if it is just a logical, educated decision.” He explained with a roll of his eyes. Loki nodded slowly, seeming to follow along as Bruce explained. People were indeed incredibly daft and anything that was out of the ordinary or even slightly informed of how things in the world worked- you could baffle very easily. It made plenty of sense. 

“The only thing is you certainly won’t make it easy.” Bruce informed with a solemn shake of his head. I mean- informing people that a dainty little milkmaid is not hard I just have her repent and she does so crying and then she runs into the crowd a free woman but uh...you.” Loki looked extremely offended and his face contorted in a sneer. A sensitive little witch wasn’t he. 

“What about me.” He asked sharply. A sigh. 

“Look Loki. You’re not exactly normal. You’re not going to make this easy. You’re very...” What was the word “dark. You scare people, you don’t attempt to make others comfortable with you.” 

“So you mean to say because I look differently and choose to keep to myself I deserve to burn?” Loki growled. Bruce tensed and stood suddenly. 

“I do not intend to let you burn Loki. I’m not letting you die so young because you’re a little...socially impaired. And you’re going to let me do it or god damn it I’ll make you.” He snapped. His face had reddened and his eyes were dark and dangerous. 

Loki’s eyes met with similar intensity, brows furrowed, the clashing tension building as they waited for who would break first thus letting the other win. Then Loki gave a frustrated sigh and pulled back from where they’d grown so close. “Neither of us will like this, if you feel we will you’re a fool.” 

“If you think I don’t know that, I’m certainly not the fool.” He muttered and then stood up. “Now get your ass up. We have a lot of work to do with your trial tonight and If any portion of it is spent with you bitching, we’re going to need quite a bit of time.” He growled, helping the man up. It was almost comical, Loki’s sulking, hating silence as he followed Bruce considering he was so much taller. 

They were stared at, considering the devil child had been torn from his house just the night before and was half naked being taken to Bruce’s home. Loki was surprisingly eager to go into the home despite his present dislike of the Doctor, mainly because of all the people staring at his skeletal form.his stomach wants collar was concave and obvious bones pressed up against near translucent skin. It wasn’t an attractive look and Bruce covered it with a shirt almost immediately. Bruce sighed and pushed his hair back. 

“God what the hell am I gonna do that’ll change their mind...” he mumbled, furrowing his brows. Loki eyed him “do something to me that I would have to have magic to escape from.” He informed. Bruce pondered. It could work in theory...he shook his head and thought it over, sitting in a wooden chair. Loki stood, leaning on the wall, looking faraway. 

He was feeling quite hopeless. What would happen if he died? His brother might never come back. His brother might never know. His parents were both dead, his father having passed in January and so his body wouldn’t be missed. Nobody would even know he died. His brows furrowed softly and he closed his eyes tightly “whip me.” He informed. Bruce paused in his pacings. 

“Excuse me?” He asked seriously, unsure if he’d heard him correctly. Because he couldn’t possibly be asking him to- 

“Whip me. With a barbed whip.” Loki knew one thing. If you whipped him, he would magically try to protect himself. Anyone magical would, so if he could hold back- they could leave him alone in theory. Bruce’s brows furrowed and he parted his lips to retaliate. 

“Anyone with supposed magic would use it to protect themselves and whippings are always effective. why else would they be so popular for drawing confessions? Whip me.” He ordered. Bruce winced and crossed his arms. 

“I can’t whip you like an animal.” 

“Then you can watch by body burn.” loki informed seriously. This time when they stared each other down- Bruce backed off, shaking his head, eyes firmly closed. He took a deep, steadying breath and then nodded. 

“Fine. We’ll whip you.” Loki gave a solemn, humorless little smirk at his win and Bruce looked down. He hated violence, he hated harming anyone and anything, it was against what he thought, and while yes, Loki was annoying and hostile with obviously no sort of respect and maybe he was even a little...yes maybe he was a little odd and strange and...unnerving...he didn’t want him to be hurt. However if it was this or death- he was choosing to whip this boy senseless instead of watching him die on that pyre. So when evening came and both men were beyond nauseous and stressed and Loki was on the edge of trembling, Bruce took Loki to the town square and informed Volstagg of his idea.

The townfolks gathered and strung Loki to a pole after stripping him naked. Jabs were thrown at his body, at his thinness and his weakness. Volstagg tightened the whip in his hands and gave the boy a sharp stare before he reared the whip back and released it with a fury. It cracked harshly and slashed through the tender skin of the chest of the young male and Loki gave a sharp cry as blood began to pour down his body, shocking his system with pain and making him convulse. 

This went on for 20 painful minutes which felt like days or weeks of torture. It was planned to go for 30, and when Volstagg got tired someone else took over. Bruce stood with his eyes closed, hands shaking, rage in his belly as Loki wailed with each hit slashed into his body, his body losing all color as blood poured from him in a crimson river, staining him. His pulse was in his ears, he was hot from the sun like he was baking and it hurt, there was no relief or safe place and his body jolted with each slash as his nervous system was abused. Then, he hit his limit. He was wrong, he wasn’t strong enough to fight it. A strike that hit just above his groin made him give a wretched cry and a bright blue light made Bruce open his eyes. 

A light blue, pearly sheen wrapped itself around the beaten, quaking body of the boy, silencing him immediately, protecting him in its cerulean orb and Bruce’s mind for once was empty. So the boy was a real witch, that was the solemn conclusion. And as a mob formed and tore Loki off the pole Bruce had to look down and away.

What on earth was he going to do now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki’s a witch who’s an inch from being burned. So who’s going to save him.

Bruce’s feet slammed into the dirt and he huffed harshly as he ran at a dead sprint towards the jailhouse. A million thoughts were racing across his consciousness. He was real. It couldn’t be real. But no trick of the light, no mass hysteria, nothing in his mind could tell him what he just saw wasn’t magic. That pale sheen that had wrapped that boys body , glittering in the sunshine, that evaporated only when Loki came to-....it wasn’t natural. 

He didn’t know what he was going to, Why he was running so fast to this boy. Probably because his burning was in the morning. He’d spent all night puzzling, thinking, writing to his cousin Jennifer in an absolute panic. He had a witch, a beaten, bleeding witch! Who was dying in approximately one hour and he couldn’t do anything about it. He had to talk to him. 

He busted into the place and ran to the bars, nearly falling as he skittered to the stop “Loki-“ he breathed, chest heaving. Wheezing sounds burst from his throat as he clutched the bars for any semblance of stability. 

However Loki didn’t answer. Loki was looking away, eyes closed. But he was awake because his hands were gently shaking. He had been dressed in ratty trousers, and his chest was wrapped in bandages, crimson splotches staining all over it. He flickered his eyes open and scowled as he realized it was Bruce. He had too much on his mind to deal with this. 

He was dying, dying painfully in an hour now. His brother may never know. He was dying at nineteen years old, with no solid lover, no career, just enough magic to get him killed and no friends. He didn’t want to hear Bruce right now. 

“So...” Bruce cleared his throat, lungs still burning “what was....what did I...Loki what happened.” 

Loki eyed him “what do you think happened?” He snapped “I’m a witch. I’m a witch and I couldn’t...make it. And now I’m burning, this is not a very difficult thing to comprehend.” 

“Yes it is! You’re not a witch, witches don’t exist there’s another explanation!” Bruce practically begged...though what was he begging for? Validation for a shattered belief? Loki only gave him a cold glare. 

“Leave Bruce. They won’t be happy if they find you in here.” He informed him darkly. 

Bruce winced and watched as the pale body closed itself off, curling up, head on the wall. He sighed and placed his head on the iron bars, shaking his head. It didn’t make any sense, it didn’t...it didn’t make any sense. His throat felt right. “I don’t want you to burn.” 

“That makes two of us.” Loki snarked. Bruce stood straight. 

“Shut up Loki! Do you understand what’s happening? Do you get what’s going on, do you understand what’s happening?!” Bruce snapped, pounding a fist on the iron gate. Loki stood swiftly and stared at him with fire in his eyes. 

“What do you think?! It’s not like I have anything to live for!” He growled. “Who am I here for?” 

“Your brother maybe? Your parents your friends, there has to be someone in this life that you want to live for-“ Loki’s eyes grew icy. 

“You don’t know anything about me. You have no right. I couldn’t escape if I tried.” He informed, hands curling around the bars under Bruce’s. Eyes met, clashed, pain and tension mingling in some odd brew of discomfort and a mutual defeat. 

“....I’m sorry. I failed you.” Bruce whispered. 

“I failed you. Gave you hope even though I knew for a fact I couldn’t handle it. I was a fool and you have nothing to apologize for and no reason to think of me ever again. Do promise me you won’t dwell on it?” Loki begged. 

Bruce swallowed and shook his head “it’s not that easy.” 

“You don’t know me.” Loki informed. 

“I don’t want you to die.” 

“And I don’t want to die knowing I’ve hurt someone who I don’t even know the first name of.” 

Bruce groaned and pushed his hair back. “It’s...Bruce.” He muttered.

Loki nodded slowly. “Well then I will bid you fairwell Bruce. I can’t be the first patient you’ve lost.” Loki murmured, with a dry, humorless half smile. 

That was the problem. Bruce had lost so many patients. Death was surprisingly normal to Bruce. So why was he so upset, so bothered? He deemed it was because it was murder, murder of a young man. That was easy and made so much sense. 

“You’re not. Why can’t you just...put up a...one of...those. That. The thing- you did. Why can’t you do it again.” Bruce asked. 

“It’s not that simple. It only happens when I’m under severe emotional trauma and even then it’s only meant for very short, very mild physical protection like knives or whips or hand to hand combat. Fire would burn right through it.” He murmured. Bruce was so curious, so curious and so bothered and so sick and so scared for what was happening to him. 

“I can’t...I can’t understand. I don’t know how I-“ he shook his head, swallowed and straightened as best he could “There has to be a way.” Loki shook his head at him, seemingly in annoyance 

“go away Bruce. Please. It will make it all easier.” He ordered. 

“I won’t, I-“ 

“Bruce. I’m not asking.” He informed. For what seemed like the thousandth time, they had a long stare down. Then Bruce slowly backed up and shook his head. And he turned on his heel and left. He went home. He downed a shot of pure absinthe and then threw the bottle at the wall because the color reminded him of Loki’s eyes. It shattered, pouring down the wall and he sat on his table shakily. Then with 30 minutes to go he went to the square where crowds were gathering and the pyre was being prepared. 

29 minutes went by in three seconds and the witch was dragged to the pyre. And not in a slow dramatic way, He was dragged by his biceps hurriedly, tearing him to the pyre. He was tied despite his struggling. The crowd waited, jeering, chanting, ordering the flame to be lit. And Loki...well Loki stared, empty-like, head tilted back to the sky as the storm clouds rolled in. A sharp clash of thunder made them light the fire. 

Just as the fire hit though, two things happened. A tall form showed up, and it began to pour rain. “Hey~...I think someone forgot to uh, contact some very very important people before burning this little witch.” Loki’s head lifted as the fire fizzled out and met the swirling, bright chocolate colored eyes of a silver haired elder of the town. 

En Dwi Gast. Loki’s entire body limped as he passed out; from what could only be assumed to be relief.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki finds himself saved by a very familiar face. Also new tags because- well you’ll see. Also quick warning; mentions of underage dubiously consentful sex and actual dubiously consentful sex while Loki is incoherent/in shock.

It was still raining in the morning. Loki’s eyes fluttered, a low breath coming from his as his eyes opened slowly. He yawned, stretched, and brushed his hair back before his eyes bolted open and he shot up, panting. 

He was freshly bandaged, very naked, and...quite alive. Dark brows furrowed and he caught his breath. He was somewhere nice. Expensive silks surrounded his skin, so soft and smooth against battered skin... “Finally up princess.” There it was. He had been in this bedroom before and it flooded back suddenly and without warning. 

Four years ago. 

Loki was trembling uncontrollably. God it was cold. Midwinter and Thor was long gone. Which was fine for him, good for Thor with his life in the military, earning honor and glory. But his 15 year old little brother...was freezing. Freezing and starving. Being such a loner...he had nobody to help him. No shelter from the cold as his house was freezing with no more wood. No food. Nothing was keeping him alive. 

So eventually Loki just sat, curling to keep warm. However a light shone of him. A torch, a torch outlining a tall form with a wide grin and glowing eyes. Loki had been picked up and taken to this bedroom where gentle hands had carded through his hair, darted down his arms and his chest. 

He was fed, given tea and introduced to En Dwi Gast. En Dwi Gast was an elder who was very rich and had a lot of influence. He was very handsome for his age and despite being...eccentric and a little annoying he was certainly generous and quite kind to Loki. He told him all about himself and how he’d come to the town and how he’d gotten so influential and Loki had nodded along and...that silver haired man had taken a liking to the teenager. Loki could still sometimes feel his mouth, against his neck or down his shoulders. 

Still feel the hands on his hips or the murmurings of adoration that the elder had given him. 

Present 

Now Loki had indeed enjoyed it or maybe he just...thought he did because he was being fed and the mans hands while often too rough were always very very warm. It had soothed him. En had been relatively good to him but when Thor returned Loki had to leave. En told Loki to return in the winter but then Thor started getting deployed only in the summertime so Loki was fine in winter and only thought of his experiences with him rarely, assuming he’d forgotten about him. 

Apparently not. 

The man was sharply dressed as always in expensive silken shirts. He sidled into the bed with a half smile, an odd little gleam in his eye “how do you uh, feel, how are you?” 

Loki didn’t speak at first and then hesitantly lay back down. “....Why am I here?” 

En shook his head “The elders are uh, always supposed to be consulted y’know? Sort of an uhm, a lovely little tradition. So I plucked you off that pole, told them all about how uh, how wonderful you were. That you’re not a witch you’re an uh...hm...like an angel, you’re here to give miracles. They’re not bad.” 

Loki nodded very slowly, brows furrowed “they believed it?” 

“They certainly weren’t uh, stopping me princess. Hungry?” 

“Not particularly.” 

“Understandable.” His body shifted close to him. Loki could feel his breath as his surprisingly strong arms tangled around Loki’s waist. 

Loki swallowed and buried his head in En’s neck with a shaky sigh, taking in his warm scent as ens always wandering, too rough hands found Loki’s legs and guided them around him. 

“You saved me.” 

“I promised you that I uh, i would stardust.” He reminded. 

Loki nodded. He had promised to save him. Loki’s hands curled into silvered Locks for any semblance of comfort. He wasn’t computing yet that he wasn’t dead. That he was in a familiar place, in familiar arms. A low and odd laugh sounded in his ears and he flicked his eyes up as hands wandered again. Down his bandages chest and stomach as en nuzzled under his chin to nip beneath his ear. 

Loki’s brows furrowed. He really wasn’t in the mood, he was far too emotionally fragile. However he owed en his life, he couldn’t back out so he just had to lean back. En’s hands worked down his belly and his mouth eventually decided to find itself at his throat. Hot. Too hot, it made Loki burn and whine. 

Loki pushed at his chest blearily but his arms were guided down and stayed There. He gasped shakily as a hand found his cock which hardened at the hot touch, entirely betraying him. 

Loki swam in confusion, hazed and yet still aroused, especially as a hot mouth found his. Loki’s lips parted and eyes shut, a tremble wracking him to the core as ens hands wrenched his thighs apart. Loki naturally closed them again but they were opened again. Why couldn’t he speak? He was intelligent and strong and he didn’t want this but he did all the same. He wanted attention and affection. 

So he gave in, he let the pleasure overtake him as he was stroked and burning fingers dug their way into his aching core. The initial press of the cock into him was very painful but eventually he got used to it as pants and groans were exchanged and the mumbles of want and praise into Loki’s ear drowned out his need for anything else. 

He was still only 19 after all. He was susceptible. Soft kisses and mumbles of ‘good boy’ and ‘god, princess’ numbed the boy to compliance and Harsh bites to his neck made him wince and the now pounding fucking he was receiving felt like it was digging into his stomach but he didn’t care. It was warm here. He only realized it stopped when he noticed en slowing. Both of them had cum by now and Loki shuddered when he saw the liquid had covered his own bandaged stomach which was unceremoniously wiped away with a handkerchief. 

A chuckle and a clear of his throat along with a quick kiss on the mouth and en made his way downstairs, returning with something for Loki to eat which Loki didn’t taste nor pay attention to before he was tucked back under the blankets and a painfully soft mouth was darting down the side of his neck. “Get some uh, rest princess. We have plenty of time for more.” Loki’s brows furrowed and he didn’t answer, already being sent back to sleep, used and very sore with an aching stomach and a confused headache. 

About that time was when En called for Bruce, as he was a doctor and Loki was still In pain and he wanted that over fairly quickly so he could go a little harder with him without opening his wounds- and he called for his brother who also had to have something for Loki with that damn collection of his. His eyes flickered to Loki. Still soft. Still young. A dancers body and a cynics heart, he’d get that boy to be the perfect thing soon, while he was still shaken enough to not fight him. And now- he had blackmail and that little raven mage? He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.


	5. Chapter 5

Bruce tapped the table repeatedly with his fingers, eyes consistently flicking to the ceiling. Something was really really wrong with the man in front of him, the only problem was what. As far as he knew, En didn’t work, and yet he was living in a massive home and apparently had riches. 

He had influence too, enough to straight up pull a real goddamn witch off of a pyre, spout something literally completely ridiculous and everyone just nod. He supposed He was really just doing what Bruce did, appeal to their mindless Catholicism by, in short, saying god would be upset if the person was killed or something along the lines. Basically this mans point had been- if Loki can do this to himself he can do this to us. He’s actually just a miracle maker. Which made sense to Bruce I mean- there shouldn’t be a reason he couldn’t outsource the job. 

But even he had been sceptical and everyone there just kind of nodded wide eyed. He had a feeling this all had something to do with en himself and not the mage upstairs. It was suspicious, suspicious enough to make him uncomfortable in his house. “So do we have a deal?” 

Bruce jolted and reddened. Damnit he hadn’t even been listening he was so focused on what the hell was up with en as a whole. “I’m sorry I-“ 

En shook his head “it’s fine.” He mumbled in slight frustration. “Look. Loki is still in a very uh, fair bit of pain and it means I can’t let him practice his magic and if he doesn’t improve it...he’s going to be uh, burned anyway if he can’t help other people with it. So I need you, and my brother when he gets here to fix him. And fix him very quickly.” 

Bruce frowned. So he was just openly going to let Loki do magic? To be honest it didn’t sound like a good idea with witch fear making everyone so uneasy. Then again...he had to see Loki again. He had questions and confusions and overall he did want to make sure he was alright. So Bruce pursed his lips and then slowly nodded. 

“...Fine. I will do it.” En looked delighted and grabbed Bruce’s arm which he quickly pulled away. En raised a brow at him but took him upstairs and opened the door to his bedroom to let Bruce enter. He watched the door closed and then spent way too much time looking in awe at the bedroom. Rich wood furniture that shown in the streaking morning sunshine, a Persian rug, little golden or crystal trinkets everywhere. Beautiful velvet chairs sat next to a pristine fireplace, tiny statues decorating the mantle. And of course the biggest part of the room, a glorious four poster canopy bed with the curtains completely drawn around it, and those Curtains were of incredibly fine silk-

Loki. That’s where he was, he’d almost forgotten. So he hooked a hand into the silk as carefully as he could. There, shrouded in darkness, lay Loki. He looked fairly peaceful now that he wasn’t fearing death, face soft, lips barely parted. His body was strangely still, it made Bruce uncomfortable and he reached out to touch his shoulder. He seemed to jolt and gasp before he relaxed and blearily opened his eyes. 

“Bruce.” He groaned, rubbing his face gently. 

“Hey...are you alright?” He asked Loki uneasily. Just wanted to make sure he was all there. 

“I am fine. What are you doing here?” He asked lightly, stretching himself and huffing uncomfortably at the very present soreness in him. He really should have completely denied him, he new it. 

“Well....I’m the only doctor in town people like so I’m here to give you another check over and hopefully end your pain quickly enough that you can...practice your magic.” Bruce mumbled. Loki’s eyes widened and then his brows furrowed. 

“I’m allowed to practice my magic?” 

“Apparently so...” Bruce mused as he took him from the bed and lay him on a cloth. In case he bled. Then he unbandaged him, eyeing his wounds and cleaning them. They seemed to be doing..Well and since they were so shallow they were scabbing over. “So...” Bruce began. “Can I...ask some questions.” 

Loki sighed softly, putting his arms behind his head. “That really depends on the questions.” He mumbled. 

Bruce snorted slightly. “Magic questions. I mean two days ago I thought witches weren’t even real and now my hands are on a real one, I have some questions.” 

Despite Loki being far More in the mood to sleep for the next few hours- the attention was fun. He wanted to be asked questions. “Very well then. Go on.” He ordered and Bruce gave him a warning look before he sighed. 

“Were You...were you born with it or did you choose to learn it? Does this mean Thor is one too?” Loki sighed as he pondered his answer. 

“You are born with the capability but you can only strengthen it by choosing to learn it. Else you will simply bury it and it will wear itself away. Thor wasn’t born with the capability.” Loki explained. 

Bruce nodded very slowly. That made sense, at least the first part. “But how does he not have it then, you two are brothers, would that make it a...sort of like a recessive?”loki shook his head 

“I don’t know.” He said defensively. Bruce decided at that point...avoiding that question may be best. He never really liked to address conflict that wasn’t physical, not with himself and not with others. He was terrible at it. 

“Okay...how did you learn?” 

“ Books.” 

“And where are those books now?” Bruce asked curiously. Imagine reading a magic book! He’d read a lot of books in his day but that one-...

“In my home.” He murmured. Bruce pondered “how do you know how to read?” He asked. 

“My mother taught me.” Maybe Loki did have a deeper past than suspected. Where was his mother now and how did she know how to read if they were peasants. Were they peasants at all. 

“Is she a witch too?” Loki narrowed his eyes. “Yes. She was.” 

Bruce seemed to nod. Alright, a witch mother who raised only one witch son, Loki was a peasant who apparently could read and not only read but get his hands on books on magic which even Bruce knew didn’t exactly grow on trees if he didn’t even know they existed. He rebandaged Loki and helped him back into the bed much to the chagrin of the boy. 

“I can walk.” Loki snapped. 

“You’d think.” Bruce pushed back and he winced. Bruce sighed and rubbed his temples “I am not the person to deal with you.” He grumbled. 

“Then why don’t you give me to a different doctor.” 

“It would be inconvenient.” He grumbled and Loki crosses his arms. Bruce sighed and suddenly there was a knock at the doorframe and both eyed the door. There stood en of course and by him a man who looked almost identical to him. “Hello boys.” He purred and Bruce pushes up his glasses with a wave. 

“This is my brother, Taneleer Tivan.” A very very odd name indeed. Where were these men even from “Alright tivvy, go help Bruce Alright?” Taneleers brows furrowed and he gave en a push who laughed. 

The elder set down a large trunk which Bruce opened and then gasped a little. Holy hell he had a lot of medicine. Which worried him because first off he couldn’t need it all and second, how on earth did he get it? 

Every drug he could think of was in the damn trunk and he furrowed his brows before he began searching through it. There was a lot of opium here, in both flower and raw form. He put that aside. Opium was a sedative and alleviated anxiety, that could always help him stay calm. There were assorted morphines and methamphetamines and a few others. En soon came in. 

Bruce sighed “well we can definitely alleviate his pain. His wounds are starting to heal, a little of any of this and he’ll definitely be fine enough to practice his magic.” He assured and en grinned in delight. 

“Fantastic!” Bruce sighed 

“Also He has magical books in his home. I would...I’d probably go and get those, it’s likely he’ll need them to carry on.” Loki nodded affirmatively and En nodded “I’ll go get them. In the meantime give him a dose of whatever he needs.” 

Bruce nodded slowly and plucked up a bit of opium up. “Usually you’re supposed to inhale it..” he found a pipe and lit it, giving it to Loki who stared at it in complete confusion. He’d obviously never taken it before or seen such a pipe and Bruce’s brows furrowed as he instructed Loki of the proper place to breathe in. 

Loki scowled at the taste and put the pipe down, giving a cough. A few minutes later Loki gave a chuckle “this feels very odd...” and Bruce nodded “alright. He should be good for...a while.” Bruce murmured. 

Taneleer eyed him “then you have no use here until tomorrow.” He informed surprisingly coldly. 

And Bruce...bruce didn’t want to leave a high 19 year old with two 60 year old men obviously a little odd but he was already leaving and he eyed the house nervously before shaking his head. He was being far too paranoid.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki’s main ‘treatment’ is now opium. I wonder how that will go.

Loki’s mind was...foggy. It was very odd and gloriously euphoric this medicine. He didn’t like smoking it, it tasted and smelled completely awful and it burned his lungs. It had made him nauseous enough to be sick twice already but it all kind of...went away after actually inhaling it. 

It was as if all his pain and memories had been taken away. Hell even sex became enjoyable, everything was enjoyable! Everything was just...warm and fuzzed over and comfortable. He’d never felt this way, so warm and unbothered. It was like being completely in Valhalla, there was nothing like it. 

Now...coming down was a little different. When he came back he would vomit, and he would be so sore and foggy, he couldn’t remember anything at all! It was...confusing and it really didn’t feel good at all. So he took more, he took more and more to ease that pain. 

It was so great, the pain of taking it went away the More he took and it was all just easy. Loki began studying again though it was hard with how giggly he’d come to getting. He’d learned very little but he now knew a healing spell which made en happy because he could still push him off as a miracle so he could fuck him everyday. 

And he did. Everything worked out, with Loki incoherent and unable to feel pain- it was so easy to just have his way with him. Not only did he not fight him, he liked it which was indeed a step up. Made it easier to do whatever he wanted. 

Loki was a lot less annoying like this. Even if he was losing weight off an already tiny tiny body and he had to give him lots and lots of mint so he didn’t have to taste vomit- he was handling things fine. 

En strolled into his bedroom, eyeing Loki who had evidently just finished smoking because he was laying back with a lazy smile on his face. Two weeks had already passed and Loki seemed for now...quite perfect. 

Loki’s eyes opened slowly and he waved “hello.” He greeted. En chuckled “hey there Princess. Sleep well.” 

“Not at all.” He murmured softly. “I’m still ill. But the medicine...helps.” He whispered. En nodded. 

“That is the point of medicine . To fix. Come here.” He ordered. Loki whined and didn’t immediately comply and ens fist closed around Loki’s hair. “Did you hear me?” 

Loki looked up at him, eyes glazed over and shifted to lay against him “that’s a good boy.” He sprawled out, popping his shoulders and grabbing his used pipe. “Suck.” 

Loki’s eyes flicked up “excuse me?” He asked drowsily. 

“You heard me.” He snapped and his hand threatened above Loki’s head. Loki swallowed and nuzzled against ens stomach and en put his arms behind his head, lazily petting the black ringlets.

Loki sighed and pressed his mouth just below ens rib cage, opening his shirt to trace down to his navel , pecking at his hipbone lazily. En pulled his head down harshly. 

Loki huffed in lazily frustration as he pulled his trousers down to eye the daunting cock. He sighed and pulled his hair from his face, staring down at his task at hand. Mouth. He sighed and began, kissing down the shaft just as he’d been instructed the first time, tracing the undervein with his tongue. His misted brain tried to remember the steps he was taught as his mouth focused on the head, tongue stroking his slit. 

He took the head in first and not long after found his limit just an inch or two down the shaft. En seemed fine with that at first but got bored of only half his shaft being sucked and he grabbed his hair. He choked and gave a gag, squirming “stop it.” 

Loki’s brows furrowed and he held himself there. When lifted he popped off and gasped hard, panting until he was forced right back down. He choked again, clawing at his throat as the man suddenly started to actually buck. He whined hard and pushed on him. 

This didn’t stop. He was lifted twice before eventually en came, pumping a good deal of his seed down his throat before letting Loki up to finally actually breathe for a moment. He set himself in en lap and he chuckled. 

“You really are a good boy. Most of the time. Get that squirming under control, yes?” Loki shrugged and nodded, barely hearing. 

“Good.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce is growing concerned off the goings-on of the Gast home. An investigation is necessary if he wants peace of mind but what he finds may be far more than what he bargained for. And far more than he can handle.

Bruce stared up at the ceiling as he tapped a bottle of gin on the kitchen table. He’d used to just be a whiskey man but...these days anything did the trick really when he was feeling moody. He took a swig as he pondered, just...thinking. 

About Loki. 

Things were getting very complicated with Loki. Loki was healed but he was refusing to stop his treatment which wouldn’t be worrying if it wasn’t...opium. Popular but it had worrying symptoms, any doctor knew that and he didn’t like that Loki was self administering and refusing to tell him how much he was taking. Yes Bruce knew the treatment was a little addictive but Loki was starting to do it religiously, which worried him because Loki was still young, in fact far too young for his prescription. He was dropping weight faster than Bruce could put back on him and he was looking paler by the day, withering away like a dying lily. It was off, it made Bruce very uncomfortable that Loki was getting so weak and still just eagerly piping away and listening to that...man. He shuddered. 

Bruce did not like En Dwi Gast. Now, En had never done anything bad to him, nor had he said anything wrong to Bruce. It was just the way he said nice things, the way he locked the bedroom door when him and Bruce left it, the way he silenced the boy when he tried to speak. It concerned Bruce and Bruce was starting to believe that it may be time for him to intervene. He knew these signs, too well.

That was easier said then done though, as the men were strict about when they let Bruce in. They also always supervised. Which meant breaking in. Another swig. A half empty bottle. He swallowed shakily. He didn’t want to get in trouble, he really didn’t. Not with En. Another swig. 

He stood up, sighing and pushing his hair back. He stretched out and rolled his stiff shoulders, tapping his feet uncomfortably. This was a bad idea, he was fuzzy and this was not his first bottle and he hadn’t thought it through at all, he had no plan or excuse... He stood up slowly and checked his clock. It was about 2 am. Surely theyd be sleeping. 

The weight of anxiety was crushing on Bruce’s ribs and his footsteps were slow. Like a child sneaking to a parents bedroom, as if he’d wake the sleepy town. Mosquitoes and flies buzzed absently in the nighttime and moths fluttered about lit lanterns. It was quiet, the vague stars twinkling overhead as he stepped through the dirt streets, dust gathering slightly at the ends of his worn in shoes. He arrived to the house. It was big, pointing up to the sky with its intimidating stature, the details in the wooden door that stood so much taller than Bruce triggering a pounding in his chest that made him want to turn around and sprint to his bed where he could hide and pretend he never showed up. 

He stepped in after opening the door, wincing at the creaking sound it made. He stepped carefully, dramatically testing the floorboards for silence as he made his way upstairs. Of course he actually didn’t have to though because he could hear an obvious commotion from the room that En resided within. He was busy.

This late at night and he was still up? Worse off, since Loki was staying in the same room... 

Oh god. Loki was staying in the same room. 

Bruce crept through the hall, heart pounding so loud, blood rushing through his fuzzy mind. As he stared at the slightly open door. He stuck close to the wall, staring into the room. It was dark but the voices were enough. 

“Stop squirming.” A deep shudder rocked through Bruce, his teeth grabbing his lip. 

“En please, it’s late and I’m tired and I’m sore and I feel sick, please, not tonight, please just let do it after I smoke in the morning, please-“ That didn’t help either. Loki’s voice was small and shaken. Weak, and it sickened Bruce. Yes the boy was a little annoying and abrasive but he was desperate. He really didn’t want En to touch him right now and the way his voice wavered when he begged....there was fire building in Bruce’s belly. 

“Do you want me to take your pipe away? Do you want me to throw you on the street, witch? do you want to suffer? My word and you’re burned, bitch, and you owe me far more than I take. Understood?” There was no fight. Because Loki knew he was right. He couldn’t live without his pipe, he couldn’t go back to begging for relief from the cold cage of his overactive and negative mind. En had saved his life and now Loki owed him his life, denying him was selfish. And even though he didn’t always want it...En made him feel wanted.

So Loki’s whimpers hushed into the blanket he was biting, candlelight glinting scarlet off the pearls of hot water pouring down his high, Sharp cheekbones. But as quickly as En had began his late fuck- he ended it and he came with a shuddering sigh. At least that’s what it seemed as the sickening beat of skin slapping on skin and harsh grunts or mutters faded to nothing. Thankfully. “Be good. Go to sleep.” Were the mumbled orders. 

Boots pounded on the road. Dogs were barking and people sat up in their beds in confusion at whoever decided to run this late at night! The thoughts going through Bruce’s mind were hazy, blurry, with no rhyme or reason because of that repeated scene. He didn’t want to be seeing that scene but it was there still pounding it’s way to the front of his kind. The bodies, tense and at strange angles, the dull muffled whimperings. The defeat Loki had shown, just melting into the bed. Like just because En had helped spare him for something that wasn’t a crime that meant he deserved to rape the boy to sickness while helping him get repeatedly incoherent for his own wants! It was filthy. Bruce felt filthy. 

Why hadn’t he questioned. Why hadn’t he gone before or ordered that Loki be cared for in his home, why had he been flippant just because the boy wasn’t close to him and because Bruce was....

Bruce was frightened of En. 

Why hadn’t he helped her. Why hadn’t he pulled his father off, why had he backed off and cried because his mother was his protector and because he was....frightened. Frightened of his father. And now his mother was dead. 

Bruce shattered a bottle. He tore bookshelves down, he flipped his kitchen table, he tore his kitchen apart. Any furniture, shelf, curtain, anything in Bruce’s reach was torn apart. The noises he made were completely inhuman. His eyes were blurred, his mind was blank. 

He blinked his eyes open and looked around. He was curled up in his living room, legs to his chest, head on the floor. He felt dizzy and his stomach hurt and he swallowed down his nausea, slowly uncurling his sore body from the fetal position. His face was wet, he’d been crying. Or sweating. Or bleeding? All of the above, that was easier. Clock. 4:18 he guessed from the blurry black and white circle. Glasses! Glasses, he dug around with heavy, clumsy hands until he found the copper framed objects. 

4:34. Close enough. He stood slowly, achy, his legs trembling softly. His head turned blearily and he scrubbed his eyes with his palms after putting his glasses in his shirt. He’d had an attack. Again. He trudged to his bedroom, knees hitting bed and he collapsed slowly and he curled neath his fur blanket, trembling a little. He was cold, child down to the bones. 

No. 

Ugh that voice. That small, accented, shaken weak voice. It was pounding through his skull! He had...suspected yes, of course! However guessing it uneasily on the fact that he felt funny about a guy and watching those bodies shift and the smaller wilt away as he was raped and drugged to what Bruce knew would be death in less than a month...oh god it was different, and he only knew one thing in that moment. If he wanted any peace in this life...

He needed to save Loki. Immediately.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bruce needs to come to terms with some facts.

Immediately was not three days. 

However it was starting to seem that three days was going to have to be the amount of time Loki fought off En, because that was the only timeline that Bruce could get to work. Bruce has pondered hard for the rest of that night and the entire day, trying to think of a way he could possibly get that boy secretly out of the house and permanently away from En.

In three days there would be a trial of a suspected rapist and murderer in which the town elders would be called to aid in judgement. A bit ironic- but En and Tivan both happened to be town elders and would be out of the home. 

Bruce had pondered over it. In theory he could simply break into the home, gather the boy and make off with him. By the time the men got home they would be well out of the town and plenty of miles south, on their way to the coast where he entirely planned to flee to France- where he had a friend whom he’d gone to university with, and perhaps travel further but they should not be followed. Bruce did not want to leave. However the boy could definitely not go alone as he was too ill! 

Besides...he’d never felt right here, like he wasn’t meant to be within the town: He had purchased a horse and explained he was using it to travel north to care for his cousin who had grown ill. He packed the horse with his essentials and a few spare items, and every liquor bottle he owned. He settled the horse at his home and sighed as he rubbed its auburn neck, listening to it huff before dipping its head to graze. 

Bruce looked away and then sighed and puffed his chest, gathering all the courage he could find and traveling to the home of En. He was quite shocked to find the door unlocked, making a slight churn of worry grow in his belly as he padded as silently as possible into the home. The stale, dusty air hit his tongue as he breathed in. The house felt still. He rushed upstairs and found the bedroom door unlocked as well but inside only lay Loki. 

He looked awful. 

He was dead pale, his eyes sunken into his head and his cheeks hollow. His lips were a soft shade of blue and his shaky hands short nails were similar, his breathing slow and labored. He was shaking all over and while he was sheened with sweat, he was freezing cold. His heartbeat was irregular when he pressed his hand to his neck. A flutter of long lashes and he opened his eyes. His pupils were being swallowed up by a glossy, acid green, the tiny black dots looking right through him, the deep bruises around the orbs making it all the worse to watch. 

“Oh Loki, oh god,” he breathed, his own warm shaky hands wrapping themselves around the trembling body of the teenager. He was still alive. He just had to keep him alive. He pulled the blankets off harshly and made sure he was dressed. His arms settled and he prepared to pick him up. Then a sound came. Bruce’s blood ran cold and his heart stopped. He dropped Loki back on the bed, earning a moan of pain. 

“Hello Bruce,” A smooth, deadly silk voice purred, too close to his ear. “Trying to take something? Because I’ll let you know...it’s not yours.” 

En. “...What are you doing here?” Bruce whispered. 

“Oh Bruce you should uh, should know by now that I don’t leave my home unlocked when I’m not uhm, presently within,” en purred. “The trial is being held off for a few hours, I’ve been told. I thought I’d spend a little time with my uh, my little lover...” slow fingers slid down the sunken stomach of the boy, triggering a shudder. 

“As you know...he won’t be around much longer now will he?” 

Bruce got tense. Too tense. He barely knew this boy, and yes he had every right to be disturbed the young man was officially on his death bed. But this was different, a different feeling, a different hatred and rage and disturbed. He wasn’t letting him die. He didn’t deserve to be here. “And what will you do? Cover up his death?” Bruce hissed softly. 

“Yes, that’s exactly uh, what I plan to do,” He purred right back. “Is it much covering up if nobody asks or cares? The brats practically disappeared anyway.” 

“He’s going to die here! You act like you care so much about him but you’re killing him, stop, just let him go!” Bruce exclaimed, stepping up to the man. 

His eyes glinted and he stared harshly down at him, a sickening grin curling his lips that made a sour taste obvious on the back of Bruce’s tongue. “He dies here. He’s mine and as long as he’s mine he will spend the rest of his uh, little life here. Even if that is just the uh, the next few hours.” En growled. 

Bruce shook his head, in disbelief. He was a monster...these could not under any circumstance, be Loki’s last memories. Rage started to boil in Bruce’s skin and he gave the man a sharp push, earning him a pause and a raised silver brow. “Oh my,” En purred, eyes flashing harshly. 

“Listen Doctor Banner...” En purred. “You have no right to touch me. Do you hear me?” En muttered dangerously. 

Bruce’s eyes narrowed harshly and his hands curled around the openings in Ens jacket, pulling him close to him “Hear me bitch,” Bruce snarled. “You have no right to touch him, you sick fuck.” He reared his fist back and punched him. 

Ens head snapped back and he stumbled back a step or two, a hand flying to his nose. When he pulled it back blood stained his hand and he sneered, pushing Bruce over the bed. He rolled over the bed and crashed to the ground, ears ringing as his head slammed into the hard ground. 

His eyes unfocused but he got up, grabbing ens clothing to tear him to the ground, kicking him in the soft bit of his stomach. He gave a sharp gasp and his arms locked around his stomach. He pulled his leg back and kicked Bruce in the stomach, sending him stumbling back. En grabbed a pocket knife from his dresser after stumbling into a standing position. 

“I’ve hidden a lot of deaths over the years. One more won’t hurt me.” His velvet voice rang and Bruce tensed, glaring at him unsteadily.

En rushed at him and Bruce ducked away, trying to stay as far away from him as possible and find a suitable weapon, his instincts kicking in to keep him alive. 

A blow to the side of the head and he cursed loudly, grabbing a heavy wooden clock off the night stand and shattered it against the elders head in one clumsy blow, the face cracking as the clock fell to the floor with a thud, blood staining the face. 

The elders eyes went unfocused, a large cut slashing over the side of his head, staining frosty silver hair a deep burgundy and matting the strands to his head. He crashed to the floor, head banging on the floor. Bruce settled on the mans chest quickly, holding down his shoulders and arms, watching him grunt and squirm as he tried to fight the stocky doctor off of him, wheezing under the pressure on his lungs.

“Get off me-“ En wheezed, panic growing in his eyes. Bruce didn’t listen. He was getting in a dark place and his mind was gone, there was no voice, no reminders to hold back or when exactly to stop. 

His eyes were bleary as his fist repeatedly found the elders face. It took the doctor several several minutes of ruthless pounding to realize the body had gone limp. 

His thoughts overwhelmed him. He’d done it again, he’d blacked out and gone too far. The mans face was deformed, bruises and blood and lumps making his eyes swollen shut and his face look pitiful. No. He wouldn’t feel pity for a monster. 

As a professional- he highly doubted he was dead. Just knocked out. So he stood up shakily. There were spatters of blood on his shirt and his hair was messy and in front of his eyes. His glasses were long gone, who knew where and he stumbled before finding them on the other side of the room. 

He situated them and brushed his hair out of the way before refocusing on Loki. God he’d completely forgotten about Loki! Unconscious now but still alive so he breathed a sigh of relief and slid his strong arms around the light but very lanky boy and carried him outside. No question, he had to get out of here, after beating the hell out of one of the town elders- they’d have his head. He sat Loki on his new horse and then got on behind him to hopefully hold the boys frail body in place as he started to ride away, galloping harshly away from the town, staring by heading due north. After all the horse man had been told that was where he was headed and when they were hunted- that’s where he would say they went. 

He changed path soon after and soon they were going the right way. Bruce had...time to think. He was leaving. Which may be out of the goodness of his heart but more likely was because he was deeply alone and the town felt...odd. 

Like it was all pressing in. He had been looking for a reason out for a while. However the fact that Loki was the reason was odd. Bruce held no resentment for Loki but he also felt no natural enjoyment or endearment for the boy in fact he was inherently annoying. 

However he was still...protective of him. He wanted him safe. Happy. In which he had no right to try to instill but he had taken his own advice this time. It may still be useless too. With the condition of the young man...well it was bad. 

He hadn’t seen anything like it! How had he deteriorated so fast? He could only guess it was probably a result of his abuse of his treatment. Of course...much of that was Bruce’s fault. It was meant to be a painkiller, a sedative to be stopped quickly when he wounds were healed. Bruce should have kept him at his home and monitored his use and afterwards cut him off from it. 

Now here he was, trembling, weak, pale- and not his old, pretty pale that made him look like living, breathing moonlight. A pale that made Bruce feel queasy. He was dying. Bruce should have paid closer attention, especially since Loki was so young and damaged and starved- other routes could have been taken or that route could have been taken overall better! 

If he has just stopped being afraid, he could have so much earlier saved him. If he had stood up to En and took proper medical care of Loki then...maybe things would be better. Maybe Loki wouldn’t be like this. He dwelled on this for a while as the horse trotted down a path he’d taken into the forest to lose their tracks easier “can I even be taken for a damn doctor?” He grumbled, eyeing the boy who had relaxed down against his chest, head back on his shoulder. Poor thing. Jesus He was still a teenager and the shit he’d been through in the past few weeks was...traumatic. He’d never get over it and Bruce knew that. 

Bruce had stopped the horse in a clearing in hopes of resting, and as he moved Loki off of the horse he received a mewl and Loki’s eyes slowly began to open. His pupils were wider but not by much but his eyes now focused “Doctor Banner?” He mumbled as he was sat down, onto a blanket. 

“Hey...how are you, Loki?” Bruce asked gently, covering his thin body up with another blanket. 

“......Awful,” he moaned, quaking softly and wrapping his arms around himself “where am I?” 

“The...the forest many miles south of town. We’re leaving.” 

Surprisingly, Loki slowly nodded and after a moment of quiet, settled down into the makeshift bed without as much as a complaint. Bruce had expected a panic from the notably unstable male “Thank you.” He muttered, barely audible. 

Bruce nodded and rested against a tree “it was my pleasure.” Funny word for it, he should have said something different but it was too late now. Bruce tried to rest, but it got colder shortly through the night and while he could handle it, the young male most certainly could not and with a sigh he climbed next to Loki and pulled him against his ample, caramel colored chest and tangled two strong arms around his thin stomach. This earned him a sigh and the boy settling comfortably in his arms, and Bruce groaned knowingly and tried to get himself to sleep because something was painfully obvious now and it sickened him about himself. 

He definitely wasn’t leaving with Loki because he wanted out. 

He was leaving with Loki....because he wanted to save Loki, and he wanted to be the one who saved Loki. Nobody else. 

Because he enjoyed the pale boy in his arms. Because he remembered his sad smile when he was still semi-healthy in that jail cell. 

The root of these feelings were something Bruce didn’t want to explore but he knew for certain he could no longer pretend that he was just doing this because he didn’t fit in. 

However thinking about the future was exhausting and he decided to succumb to sleep for the night. And deal with everything else later.


End file.
